Rocky Bluff P.D. is underpaid and understaffed and when two dead bodies turn up, the department is stretched to the limit. The mayor is the first body discovered, the second an older woman whose death is caused in a bizarre manner. Because no one liked the mayor, including his estranged wife and the members of the city council, the suspects are many, but each one has an alibi.
Copies may be purchased from Book and Table by emailing bookandtablevaldosta@gmail.com with a 10% discount and free shipping.
Books may be ordered from all the usual places as well.
One of My Favorite Characters in the Rocky Bluff P.D. Series
Cheryl asked me to tell about my favorite character in this series, but instead, I wanted to tell you about a fairly new character that I’m growing fond of, the new Chief of Police, Chandra Taylor.
Chandra, the second African American on the RBPD, came to Rocky Bluff from the San Francisco Police Department. She knew her chance of advancing beyond lieutenant were nil. Though the small beach town of Rocky Bluff certainly didn’t compare to San Francisco, it didn’t take long before Chandra began to enjoy her job, the police officers who worked under her and the community itself.
In A Crushing Death, Chandra’s life was threatened by a man she’d arrested in the past and Detective Milligan and his wife, Officer Stacey Milligan, not only protected her but became friends in the process.
When the mayor is murdered and the other members of the city council all become suspects, Chandra finds herself attracted to the man who has become the new mayor, Devon Duvall. Whether or not this attraction will develop, of course, depends upon Devon’s innocence.
It’s always fun for me as an author, when new and interesting characters become a part of the Rocky Bluff series. I hope that readers will enjoy this new twist as well.
F. M. Meredith lived for many years in a small beach community much like Rocky Bluff. She has many relatives and friends who are in law enforcement and share their experiences and expertise with her. She taught writing for Writers Digest Schools for 10 years, and was an instructor at the prestigious Maui Writers Retreat, and has taught at many writers’ conferences. Marilyn is a member of three chapters of Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and serves on the board of the Public Safety Writers of America. She lives in the foothills of the Sierra. Visit her at http://fictionforyou.com and her blog at http://marilymeredith.blogspot.com/
The body that washes up on the beach leads Detectives Milligan and Zachary on a murder investigation that includes the victim’s family members, his housekeeper, three long-time friends, and a mystery woman.
RBPD is a small police department located in a beach community in Southern California, north of Ventura and south of Santa Barbara. However, it is a fictional place, so you won’t find it if you drive down the 101 Highway.
Cheryl asked me to tell something about the police officer in the Rocky Bluff Police Department so here goes:
The first book in the series, Final Respects, is mostly about Officer Doug Milligan and how his job affected his marriage. Through the years he’s matured and is now a detective. He fell in love with and married Stacey Wilbur, a fellow officer.
Stacey Wilbur Milligan has a young son, Davey. She often works vice crimes.
Gordon Butler has never had good luck when it comes to romance, but things may be looking up for him.
Lizette Gibbs is fairly new to the department and is attracted to Gordon. She sometimes assists Stacey.
Ryan Strickland is married and he and his wife, Barbara, are expecting their first child together. Unfortunately, the baby has been predicted to have Down Syndrome and Ryan isn’t sure if he’s up to being the father of a child with special needs.
Felix Zachary, the only African American officer, has been promoted to detective.
Vaughn Aragon is back on the job, limited duty, because of demons he faced in Angel Lost.
Sergeant Abel Navaro has his own family problems, juggling the care of his young daughter while his wife works as a nurse, and worrying about his mother with Alzheimer’s.
The former police chief has retired, and a new person has taken his place, Chandra Taylor, an African American woman, causing everyone to wonder what changes may come to the RBPD.
And if anyone is wondering, though these characters are fictional, to me each and every one seems very real.
Thanks for letting me visit today, Cheryl.
Marilyn aka F. M. Meredith
F. M. Meredith aka Marilyn Meredith is the author of over 35 published books. She enjoys writing about police officers and their families and how what happens on the job affects the family and vice versa. Having several members of her own family involved in law enforcement, as well as many friends, she’s witnessed some of this first-hand.
Once again I am offering the opportunity to have your name used as a character in a book if you comment on the most blogs during this tour for Murder in the Worst Degree.
As plans for her perfect wedding fill her mind, Officer Stacey Wilbur is sent out to trap a flasher, the new hire realizes Rocky Bluff P.D. is not the answer to his problems, Abel Navarro’s can’t concentrate on the job because of worry about his mother, Officer Gordon Butler has his usual upsets, the sudden appearance of an angel in the window of a furniture store captures everyone’s imagination and causes problems for RBPD, and then the worst possible happens—will Stacey and Doug’s wedding take place?
Read an excerpt!
Chapter 1
“Officer Wilbur, are you listening?” Detective Doug Milligan fixed his blue eyes on Stacey.
She squirmed in her seat and felt the heat rise up her neck to her cheeks. The honest answer was “no” because she’d been thinking about plans for their coming wedding, certainly not the topic being discussed at the shift change briefing. She quickly back-tracked to what she last remembered—the man who exposed himself to female joggers on the beach. Since she figured they might have gone onto another subject without her realizing, she decided to be honest. “Sorry.”
The others in the room stared at her. Doug’s partner, the nearly bald Frank Marshall had a bemused expression on his face. He unwrapped a stick of gum, folded it, and put it in his mouth. Chewing gum had replaced a smoking habit. He winked at her.
Stacey figured he guessed what she’d been thinking about. Having everyone speculating about her private life had been one of the reasons Stacey vowed never to date anyone on the Rocky Bluff P.D.—a vow she’d broken when she and Doug had been mutually attracted to one another.
Handsome Ryan Strickland, the public relations officer for Rocky Bluff P.D., reached over and patted her hand. “We know you have more important things on your mind with your wedding less than two weeks away—but since there’s a pervert who decided to make jogging on the beach an unpleasant experience for females, maybe you ought to pay attention, since it does fall under your job description.”
Shrugging and grinning, Stacey said, “What can I say? You’re absolutely right, my mind was elsewhere. Sorry. I’m listening now, but I did hear most of it.” She absently caressed the tear drop diamond in her engagement ring.
The group around her murmured and she heard a few chuckles. In attendance besides Doug, Frank and Ryan, were most of the patrol officers on the daytime shift, including Gordon Butler. Sergeant Abel Navarro and the men who worked the evening hours were still there too.
Stacey was thankful Chief McKenzie was absent. He might regret making her head of the Vice team—a team that so far consisted only of her.
“We’ve had our third complaint in the last two weeks about a man on the beach exposing himself to unsuspecting female joggers.” Doug glanced at the notes on his desk. “It’s probable that the same thing has happened to others, but they haven’t bothered to report it.”
He looked so much younger since he’d shaved his mustache. Stacey remembered when she first came on the department almost every officer had a mustache; now most were clean-shaven. Without the mustache, Doug’s dimples were even more prominent. She shook her head, time to pay attention and stop admiring her future husband.
Doug continued. “This guy is a real scumbag. He usually fondles himself and talks nasty to the victims. None of them could remember exactly what he said because they immediately ran away. The last young woman, a Claudine Graham, reported that the man started following her. I think this pervert is getting braver and may attack a woman.”
“Is there a pattern? Does he do this at any particular time?” Stacey asked. “Do you have an accurate description?”
“That’s what I was talking about when you spaced out on us.” Doug’s grin softened the sting of his words. “This has always happened early in the morning, between 6:30 and 8 a.m. Seems all three victims like to jog before going to work. Yes, we do have a description, a white male, anywhere from late twenties to early forties, close to six foot tall and around 200 pounds. Wears a watch cap so don’t know his hair color.”
“What do you want to do about the suspect? Put someone on beach patrol? Maybe I could start jogging during that time period and catch the pervert in the act.” Stacey knew if anyone but Doug was in charge he would jump at the chance to use her as a decoy. She could tell by Doug’s hesitation that he wasn’t thrilled by the idea.
Abel Navarro spoke. “That’s a great idea, Wilbur.”
“I suppose it is,” Doug smoothed back his dark hair and tapped on the desk with his pen. “We’ll provide you with back-up.”
“Probably won’t be necessary. It’s cool in the morning. I can carry my gun and cuffs in my jacket.” Though Stacey was small, five foot four and one-hundred five pounds, people still talked about the time she took down a nearly three-hundred pound would-be bank robber. Luck had played a big part in the arrest, plus the suspect had been shocked by a petite female having the guts to confront him. All the men in the bank, including the security guard, had cowered. No matter, the incident had given her a status in the department she was quite happy to have.
“At least call in before you head out. That way, a unit can be close by if the suspect crosses your path.” The scowl on Doug’s face made it obvious he wasn’t pleased with the idea.
One of the uniformed officers, a recent transfer from LAPD, raised his hand. Stacey had to think a moment to remember his name. Vaughn Aragon, that was it. She didn’t know much about him except that he’d told a couple of guys that he wanted to get away from big city crime. Sandy-haired and lightly-freckled, he wasn’t as short as Abel Navarro, but was at least three inches under six-foot. She guessed he was at least thirty, maybe older. She’d heard he was recently divorced. Although he didn’t look Hispanic, he could speak Spanish, the main reason he’d been hired. When he was acknowledged by Doug, Aragon said, “I worked a similar case in L.A. at Venice beach.” Doug nodded. “Why don’t you and Wilbur work on this together.”
Swell, she was going to be saddled with someone she didn’t even know. Aragon turned in his seat and grinned. Without any enthusiasm, she smiled back.
The meeting continued as a rash of burglaries in the wealthiest part of Rocky Bluff were discussed. In each case, the thief had found easy access to the expensive homes. Possibly the owners felt unwisely secure because of the location.
Some of the oddest happenings of the day were also brought up, from the report of a poisoned squirrel dying on a front lawn, two peacocks strutting down a residential street interfering with traffic, and a woman who thought her boyfriend was missing but was found asleep in their bed.
When the meeting was over and those on the late shift headed toward their police units,
Aragon approached Stacey. “How should we go about this?” He seemed nervous.
Stacey motioned to the chair near hers. “Why don’t you tell me how the similar case you were on was handled.”
He turned the chair around and straddled it. “It was a lot like this one. Pervert approached from the opposite direction on the beach like he was taking an early morning stroll. When he neared the female jogger, he’d open his coat and grab himself. Usually made some kind of nasty suggestions, though most of his victims didn’t hang around long enough to hear what he said.”
“Did your guy ever try to attack any of these women?”
“No, we caught him right away.”
“How did you do it?”
“Pretty much like you suggested. One of the female cops jogged along the same stretch of beach and the very first time she did it, the guy approached her. I’d been sitting farther up the beach watching with binoculars. She exchanged words with him and I got there in time to help with the arrest.”
Stacey nodded. “Hopefully, it’ll go that way for us too. Tomorrow’s my day off and I have too much to do to give it up.”
“Stuff for the big wedding day, right?” Aragon displayed his full set of slightly crooked teeth in an enormous grin.
She decided to ignore his question. He didn’t know her well enough to tease her, but the police department was like a small town, everyone liked to gossip. Right now, her upcoming wedding to Doug was the hottest topic. Too bad there wasn’t a gruesome murder to grab everyone’s interest. She couldn’t believe such a thought popped into her mind. She shook her head.
“We’ll start day after tomorrow. Meet me at the condemned pier at seven a.m. I’ll point out the places where each of victim had her encounter with this jerk. That should help us choose the best spot for you to watch while I jog. If nothing else, I’ll get some exercise.”
* * *
Doug caught up with Stacey in the parking lot. “How about coming back to the house for awhile?” Stacey grinned at him. “As much as I’d like to, I think I better get home. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”
“I know, but do you have time for a cup of coffee at least? We could stop at the diner. I wanted to talk to you about this pervert. I’m not so sure I want you to be a decoy.”
“Okay. A cup of coffee.”
Though Doug suggested she ride with him, she declined. Driving her yellow VW, she followed his black SUV. When they’d met, Doug drove a red vintage MG he’d restored. The SUV didn’t seem like the right vehicle for him. Unfortunately his pride and joy had been sunk in a lagoon by a suspect. Though it had been fully insured, he’d replaced it with the SUV, reasoning it was more suitable for a family man. Perhaps he was right as there was plenty of room, even for the times his two children might visit.
They parked in front of the diner located on Valley Drive, the main street of Rocky Bluff. A favorite with cops and civilians alike, the diner, aptly called The Gathering Place, stayed open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. According to the newspaper clipping framed on the wall, the establishment opened its doors in 1939. It was laid out like many diners of an older era, with a counter down one side and booths on the other. Through the years, each new owner had rejuvenated it with a paint job, new curtains and decorations. Though everything was fresh and clean, the latest version reflected an earlier time with blue and white gingham curtains and shelves filled with old-fashioned kitchen equipment like old toasters, mixers, bread boxes and cheese graters. The waitresses wore blue and white gingham aprons, though underneath most wore white blouses and dark slacks.
Once Doug and Stacey settled in their favorite booth at the back of the room, with steaming cups of coffee in front of them, she said, “Don’t say anything about the pervert on the beach. It’s my job to take care of these kinds of cases now.”
Reaching across the blue and white speckled Formica table-top, Doug took one of her hands. “That’s not what’s bothering me. We really don’t know much about this new guy, Aragon. I’d be much happier if someone else was going to back you up.”
“Like who? Gordon?” Stacey’s blue eyes twinkled.
“No, as much as I like Butler, he’d probably botch the whole thing.”
“Sounds like Aragon has a lot more experience than Gordon. I really don’t see how anything can go wrong.”
“Something can always go wrong.”
Nodding, Stacey squeezed his hand. “Yes, and it can go wrong with weddings too. That’s why I have to go home early tonight and really concentrate on everything that I still have to do. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
Doug sipped some coffee. He’d be so happy when he and Stacey were finally married and she and her son Davey lived with him. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t agreed to a big wedding.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t and we aren’t having one. This is a small ceremony in the church with only our relatives and close friends.”
“Close friends meaning all the police officers who don’t have to work along with their wives and kids.”
“And my mom and dad and Davey.”
“Of course.” He sipped his coffee and swallowed hard. “It just seems the plans keep expanding.”
Stacey raised her eyebrows and tipped her head. “Sounds like you’re getting nervous. You aren’t having second thoughts are you?”
“Absolutely not. I can hardly wait.” They’d already picked out matching wedding rings and gotten their marriage license. He wished they could have a simple ceremony at the court house, but Stacey and her parents were adamant that their wedding be performed by their minister and in the church.
He studied Stacey. Her short honey colored hair curled slightly around her elfin face that was nearly devoid of make-up. She was so different than his first wife. Though beautiful, Kerrie couldn’t stand the fact that he was a policeman. When one of their best friends was killed on the job, that was the end of the marriage. Stacey filled the void left by his divorce. Of course he missed his kids, but Stacey’s six-year-old son, Davey, helped ease that pain. He was eager to be a full-time father again.
She frowned. “That’s good because I’ve spent a lot of time and money trying to make everything perfect.” When she broke into giggles, Doug knew she was teasing.
“I thought we weren’t planning anything extravagant.” Every time she started talking about what she was doing, it made him nervous. No doubt their ideas of a small wedding weren’t the same. He hadn’t been asked to foot the bill for anything and, so far, had only paid for the rings. It wasn’t the expense that was bothering him. He’d already experienced one big wedding and the outcome wasn’t good. He was hoping a much smaller event and their love would result in a lasting commitment.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” A smile lingered on her full lips. “It will be far from extravagant, but I do want it to be nice. My plan is to make our special day something we’ll both remember.”
Read the reviews!
“This is a suspenseful story with a bit of religious mysticism thrown into the mix—just enough to broaden the plot and provide added depth to the characterizations. It should appeal to a wide range of readers and will provide a satisfying reading experience thanks to the author’s smooth and fluid writing style.”
–Kit Sloane
"With Angel Lost, Meredith continues to do what she does best: provide an entertaining story that draws you in and takes hold of you until the very last word. In addition, all these books, while part of a series, are excellent stand-alone novels. This book, like the others, left me eager for more of the members of the Rocky Bluff P.D."
--The Book Connection
F.M. Meredith, also known as Marilyn Meredith, is the author of nearly thirty published novels. Her latest in the Rocky Bluff P.D. crime series, from Oak Tree Press, is Angel Lost. Marilyn is a member of EPIC, Four chapters of Sisters in Crime, including the Internet chapter, Mystery Writers of America, and on the board of the Public Safety Writers of America. Visit her at http://fictionforyou.com and her blog at http://marilymeredith.blogspot.com.
Okay everyone, you already know that I am a big fan of F.M. Meredith's Rocky Bluff P.D. series. What you might not know is that the author is running a giveaway where you have the chance to win a copy of the first two books in this series: Final Respects and Bad Tidings.
Final Respects is the story of three little girls who play in their father's mortuary. It is also the story of several policemen and how what happens in their private lives affects the job and how what happens in the job affects their private lives. The crime in this one is the murder of police officer Doug Milligan's babysitter.
Bad Tidings is about a police detective who often has to deliver bad tidings to others and finds out some bad tidings of his own.
The best place to buy these books is directly from the author's website.
Marilyn mentions in this post that once her copies of Bad Tidings are gone, you won't be able to get this book anywhere; so don't wait if you are interested in owning the entire Rocky Bluff P.D. series--which I would highly recommend because you'll want to know more about these characters whose stories the author has woven in such a way that you'll care for them as if they were you're own friends and family.
You can find details for how to enter this giveaway at Marilyn's Musings. A winner's name will be drawn at noon on April 19th, so enter now!
Stacey handles a molestation case which involves the son of a friend. She and her mother talk wedding plans, though all must wait until Doug’s renter, Officer Gordon Butler finds another place to live.
When Doug disappears while tailing a suspect, Stacey sets out to find him, hoping she can reach him time.
Read an Excerpt from An Axe to Grind!
Chapter 1
Sergeant Abel Navarro fought to keep from gagging. It wasn’t only from the smell, though that was bad enough.
“Somebody really did a job on the poor slob.” Officer Gordon Butler spoke from the open front door.
“You could say that.” Abel shook his head, had to be the understatement of all time. His wife, Maria, would have a fit if she knew he was in a room with this much spilled blood without any protective gear on. As a nurse, she’d lectured him many times about how airborne droplets of blood could contain the HIV virus along with other terrible diseases. He’d have to take his chances. Until the detectives arrived, there wasn’t anything he could do except make sure no one messed with the crime scene.
“You didn’t touch anything, did you, Butler?”
“Nope. Only poked my head in the door. It was obvious from here the guy was dead.”
Gordon was the newest and youngest officer on the Rocky Bluff P.D. Mostly because of his gung-ho attitude, he had a record of mishaps. He’d calmed down a bit, and finally earned the respect of most of his fellow officers.
There wasn’t any need for medical help, though the EMT’s would arrive soon. The victim’s body lay sprawled in a pool of blood that had emptied from the neck cavity. The head was missing. Abel couldn’t spot it from where he stood about two feet inside the modest living room. Globs of blood and rivulets decorated the plain white walls, the beige slip-covered lumpy couch, and light green overstuffed chair. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any surface free from congealing spots of blood.
“What brought you to the scene?” Abel asked.
“Paperboy,” Gordon said. “Poor kid’s pretty shook up. Got him sitting in my unit now. He was collecting, went to knock on the door and realized it was open. Gave it a shove and this is what he saw. Jumped on his bike and went racing down the street. Flagged me down. I took one peek inside and called it in.” Gordon’s cheeks flamed red. Obviously, what he’d seen had shaken him too.
“I got your call about twenty minutes ago, around seven-thirty and notified Milligan and Marshall. They should be heading for the crime scene about now.” Abel longed to be outside to breathe in the fresh sea air. He would never get used to the pungent coppery smell of freshly spilled blood, the sickening stench of evacuated bowels and urine. Though murder wasn’t unknown in the seaside community of Rocky Bluff, this was one of the most brutal and gory he’d ever seen.
“Anyone around when you drove up?” Abel asked.
“Nope.” Butler nearly filled the open door with his bulk. His arms were crossed over his massive chest, and dark glasses hid his eyes. Bright pink colored his cheeks.
Abel glanced again at the victim, ignoring the gore, he took in the fact that the body was that of a white male. Including the missing head, he would be around five-foot-ten, slim build, no noticeable tattoos on his arms. The body was clothed in a striped polo shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. He had on a watch, but no rings.
Studying the rather plain room, except for the body and the blood, nothing seemed out of place. It was an ordinary living room in an ordinary small rental.
The sound of squeaky brakes announced the arrival of at least one of the detectives. Taking care to walk out exactly as he’d come in, Abel stepped outside.
Fog was beginning to roll in, softening the reality of the old beach neighborhood. Built in the thirties as vacation homes for people who lived in the Los Angeles area, most of the small houses were in various states of disrepair. Abel knew that even though they weren’t kept up, they brought in relatively high rents because of their proximity to the Pacific Ocean. Fortunately, Rocky Bluff hadn’t reached the popularity of its neighboring cities of Ventura and Santa Barbara.
Except for tonight, Abel loved living here. It was a great place for Maria and him to raise their daughter. Maybe no one had been around when Butler arrived, but now people had come out of their houses, peering curiously at the unusual activity, huddling in small groups.
Frank Marshall stepped out of his battered Pontiac that he’d parked behind Gordon Butler’s police unit, just as a red, vintage MG came to a screeching halt across the street. Doug Milligan joined Frank and they both strode across the dry Bermuda grass toward Abel pulling on latex gloves as they came.
“Who’s the kid?” Frank gestured toward the unit. He wore a navy jacket over a plain white T-shirt. He had on a well-worn pair of faded jeans. Abel suspected Frank had been relaxing in front of the TV when he got the call.
Both detectives were taller than Abel–for that matter nearly everyone in the department was taller than Abel. “Paperboy. He discovered the body. Butler says he’s pretty shook up. When you see the body you’ll understand why.”
“I’ll go talk to the boy and let Gordon take him home,” Doug said. Milligan had two children of his own, though they lived in San Diego with their mother and her new husband.
Even though he no longer had a wife to watch after him, his tan sport jacket and slacks were neatly pressed.
Marshall rubbed his bald pate. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Gordon moved out of the doorway. Abel allowed Marshall to enter first.
Marshall halted. “Whoa. What an unholy mess. Do we know the identity of the victim?”
“Nope, haven’t touched a thing,” Abel said, and hoped he didn’t have to.
“Know where the head is?”
“No, but I didn’t look for it either.”
“Butler touch anything?”
“Said not.”
“Good. Did you call the coroner?”
“Did that before I left the station.”
“Start snapping pictures, Navarro. Get the cameras out of my car, and take the scene that way first. Be sure and get some good shots of the blood spatters. Then I want you to video the evidence collecting.” Marshall already had his notebook out and started writing.
Abel knew the detective was methodically putting down everything he could see. By the time Abel returned with the cameras, Marshall had moved across the room. He gestured toward an alcove that served as a dining room. “Killer thought it would make a nice centerpiece, I suppose. Be sure to take a photo of it.”
Placed exactly in the center of a square wooden table, blue eyes stared from the long, pale face of a male, early to mid-thirties with brown hair cut extremely short emphasizing his large ears. Abel photographed the body from every angle, the gory blood spatters, and the head. He tried not to think about what he was recording as he methodically went about the task.
Opened mail, along with the envelopes, lay scattered about the head. It was all addressed to Kenneth Buchelo. While Abel took pictures, Milligan returned from his interview of the paperboy. He stared at the victim while he talked. “Kid’s name is Robert Villard. Eleven. Goes to the same school my kids went. Doesn’t know anything, except who the man is–Kenneth Buchelo.”
“He’s sure that’s who is lying on the floor?” Marshall asked.
“Sure as he can be without seeing his head. Terrible shock to a kid. Butler’s taking him home now.” Doug Milligan touched his upper lip. It hadn’t been too long ago that he’d sported a mustache, but now he was clean-shaven. “I’ve called for extra help, the crowd is getting bigger outside. We need some uniforms to start asking the neighbors what they know about this guy. The Chief’s been notified, and I thought Strickland ought to be here. The media is going to love this one.” Ryan Strickland was the Department’s public relations officer. “What do you think it is, a homosexual murder?”
Murders involving homosexuals tended to be more bizarre; the decapitation had caused Abel to think the same.
“Don’t know,” Marshall said. “Won’t until we’ve gotten a positive ID on the body.”
They really wouldn’t even have a tentative identification until the coroner arrived and checked out the guy’s wallet. According to California law only the coroner could take anything off the body. Though it was also the coroner who made the decision on cause of death, it was pretty obvious what happened to their victim. It was up to the detectives to discover who did it and why.
Hopefully, as they slowly and meticulously gathered the evidence it would become clear who and what had caused Kenneth Buchelo’s death. From Abel’s viewpoint it didn’t look like an easy matter. So far they hadn’t even recovered the weapon.
“Hey, we got a bloody one.” Ryan Strickland, also tall and extremely handsome, strolled into the room but halted immediately when he saw the body. “Oops, guy lost his head.”
“Hasn’t gone far.” Marshall pointed toward the dining alcove.
Strickland edged his way nearer. “Ugh, not too appetizing. Media’s going to love this one. What have you got?”
“Decapitation, no ID as yet. But so far it looks like our victim is a Kenneth Buchelo.”
“Know anything about him?” Strickland asked.
“Not yet.” Marshall continued his methodical walk around the scene. Abel followed closely with the video camera capturing everything Frank was looking at or touching with his gloved fingers.
“Anyone ever heard of this guy before?” Strickland asked.
Though Abel hadn’t recognized the face of the victim, there was something vaguely familiar about the name. Until he could remember though, he wouldn’t say anything.
Eliseo Alvarado, the deputy coroner of Ventura County, popped into the room. He was a wiry, dark-skinned and haired gnome-like fellow. “Hi everybody, what’ve we got here?”
Alvarado put his medical bag down beside the corpse, and opened it. “Where’s the head?”
“In there, smack dab in the middle of the table.” Frank pointed with his thumb.
As the coroner began examining the body, Frank said, “Come on Navarro, let’s take a look in the other rooms.”
Abel followed the detective into the small, neat kitchen, recording everything with the video camera. Though the appliances were old-fashioned, the cabinets were freshly painted, the worn linoleum clean. The bathroom was much the same. Everything neatly in place, the medicine cabinet held the usual assortment of pain relievers, razor and blades, shaving cream, cologne and deodorant.
Frank slid open the drawer beside the sink and lifted out a package of condoms. “Looks like he was sexually active…or at least hopeful.”
The bedroom was more interesting. Though small like the rest of the house, it only contained a neatly-made twin bed, a small bedside table, a battered dresser, a small desk with an open laptop computer and printer, and a folding chair.
Taped and thumbtacked to the walls were at least a hundred photographs, big and small–black-and-white and in color–of one young woman–an Hispanic girl, early twenties, pretty.
Frank paused in front of the display. “H’mmm. Interesting. Notice anything unusual here?”
Abel took the video camera from his eye and squinted at the photos. “Nice looking.” He studied a bit more. “None of the pictures are posed. She’s doing something in each one. Sitting in a restaurant, peering through a window. That one she’s coming out of the library.”
“Obviously she had no idea her picture was being taken.” Frank opened the door to the closet. Inside, an array of ordinary short- and long-sleeved shirts, dark brown, navy and black slacks, along with one navy sports coat and dress slacks hung neatly. Lined up on the floor were three pairs of worn men’s shoes, two black and one brown, and a fairly new pair of name brand sneakers.
On the overhead shelf was a small digital camera. “We’ll take the camera and the computer as evidence, as well as the picture gallery,” Frank said.
He found one other item of interest in the drawer of the bedside table, a journal filled with neat writing. He held it aloft. “Bingo. This should tell us plenty about our headless wonder.”
AN AXE TO GRIND IS AVAILABLE IN A KINDLE EDITION FOR ONLY $1.99 OR BUY AN AXE TO GRIND FROM THE AUTHOR'S WEBSITE!!
Read Reviews of Other Books in the Rocky Bluff P.D. series!
“No Sanctuary delivers well-developed characters and an intriguing plot with a surprising twist at the end. Congratulations, F.M. Meredith, on another winner. No Sanctuary qualifies as a fast and satisfying read. Loved it!”–Karen Kavanagh, former Co-president of Sisters in Crime-CCC
“Anyone who has the slightest interest in anything to do with police work will love SMELL OF DEATH by F. M. Meredith.”–Radine Trees Nehring, www.RadinesBooks.com
“Fringe Benefits is a fast, interesting read and I think the police officers in Rocky Bluff are typical of police officers everywhere with the same ambitions and stumbling blocks…”–Patricia Reid
Watch the video trailer for No Sanctury, the previous release in the Rocky Bluff P.D. series!
F. M. Meredith who also writes under the name Marilyn Meredith is the author of nearly thirty published novels including the Rocky Bluff P.D. crime series, An Axe to Grind is the newest from Oak Tree Press. No Sanctuary was a finalist the mystery/suspense category of the Epic best in e-books contest .
She is a member of EPIC, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and on the board of the Public Safety Writers of America. She was an instructor for Writer’s Digest School for ten years, served as an instructor at the Maui Writer’s Retreat and many other writer’s conferences. For over twenty years she lived in a beach community similar to Rocky Bluff.
The trailer I put together for F.M. Meredith's (Marilyn Meredith's) No Sanctuary is now up at The New Covey Video Trailer Awards. Voting is open until midnight on June 19th.
Riveting, fast-paced, and filled with twists and turns, No Sanctuary by F.M. Meredith is a crime fiction reader's dream.
Officer Stacey Wilbur is the first on the scene of a one-car accident. A green Toyota has smashed into an oak tree and the female driver is dead. But it soon becomes obvious that the accident is a cover up for murder.
The victim is the wife of a popular local minister, and her preacher husband soon becomes the most likely suspect. Gossip in town tells of trouble in their marriage, but as Stacey and Doug start putting pieces together, they find several other likely suspects who could have wanted Mallory Cookmeyer dead.
Called away from the case to work on a special assignment, Stacey is faced with decisions that will impact her career and her budding romance with Doug Milligan, and most likely, put her in harms way.
When we last heard from Stacey Wilbur in Smell of Death, she had broken her long-standing rule of never dating anyone she works with and entered into a relationship with Doug. This gives an already strong character even more depth. A widow, she has been caring for her son Davey with the help of her parents, while trying to juggle a challenging and dangerous career. Having lost her husband in the line of duty, a relationship with Doug offers similiar dangers, but it's really their difficult work schedules that make nurturing their relationship tough on Doug and Stacey.
One of the things that Meredith does best with the Rocky Bluff P.D. series is show not only the official side to her characters, but also how working in law enforcement impacts these people's lives--not just the members of the police force, but also their families. I could easily see these books being turned into a television crime series.
Meredith is also wise in making each one truly a stand alone book. These stories focus on different members of the Rocky Bluff P.D. These aren't just Stacey's stories; they are Doug's, Gordon Butler's, Abel Navarro's, Rick Strickland's, and others who are or were part of the Rocky Bluff P.D.
There are many twists and turns in No Sanctuary, as the reader is led to believe it might be the husband, but then it might be someone on his staff or someone from the church. And this mystery propels the story forward to an exciting and satisfying conclusion.
As with Smell of Death, Meredith breaks up all the seriousness with a bit of humor. This time it is mostly brought on by Officer Gordon Butler who rents a room from Doug and who happens to walk in on Doug and Stacey at the worst times. In addition, the banter between Doug and Stacey about the outfit she chooses for her special assignment lightens things up and makes the reader want to see more of these two together in the future.
A fast and suspense-filled read for crime lovers. Pick up a copy of No Sanctuary today!
Title: No Sanctuary Author: F.M. Meredith Publisher: Oak Tree Press ISBN: 978-1-892343-55-0 SRP: $12.95 (US)
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